Tears of the Past
by uber grasshopper
Summary: Toubled times fell upon the wizarding world for twenty long years. However, light conquered darkness and the world rejoiced. But for one woman, the battle for her son, for her Sirius, has only just begun. (Not OotP Applicable at ALL)
1. Prologue

PLEASE READ THE TIMELINE FURTHER DOWN ON THE PAGE!!!  
  
Summary: This story follows the actions and life of Athena Black, mother Sirius Black, through the first four books of the Harry Potter series. (Not riddled with flashbacks, but there are a healthy amount of them)  
  
Rating: PG-13 for some language  
  
Disclaimer: ok - this goes for the whole entire story - and this is the last time ur gonna see it this piece so read it good. I OWN NOTHING YOU RECOGNIZE! It's all JK Rowlings' even the plot is. . . mostly is anyway. Athena Black, however, is mine. ALL MINE. . . well except for her last name really. But her personality, scar, temper, character, etc. is MINE I claim it! I'm almost absolutely positive Dragonsbane is mine too - I could be wrong, though.  
  
AN: now take a few deep breaths and clear your mind. This story is nothing like my normal personality this is the moodier, angst-ier side of me. Now I'm not normally a woeful person - I'm usually full of "YAY"s and "WOHOO"s and such. Anyway, moving on:  
  
}{}{ signifies the begining of a flashback  
  
][][ signifies the end of a flashback (sorry I forgot to mention that first time around)  
  
READ THIS!!!  
  
MY Timeline:  
  
1939 - Athena born  
  
1950 - 1957 - Athena at Hogwarts  
  
1957 - 1962 - Athena at Drangonsbane  
  
1963 - Sirius born  
  
1974 - 1981 - Marauders at Hogwarts  
  
1982 - Lily and James marry  
  
1986 - Harry born (making him 11 in 1997 when SS came out)  
  
1987 - Sirius arrested  
  
So I'm totally within my bounds with the Terminator thing. ^_^ you'll see.  
  
questions? comments? quibbles?  
  
Plz R&R! Thank yaz! I'll most prob. reply to quibbles and stuff via e-mail, or at the end of this whole shindig.  
  
PS: LU V YA'LL in advance for reading!!!  
  
Ok - deep breath - clear your minds. Prologue is as follows: ____________________________________________________________________________ __________  
  
Prologue  
  
}{}{  
  
As the small ship faded into the distant fog, I cried.  
  
I cried for my boy. My heart. My whole life.  
  
They took my son away and I am left the hollow shell of a mother.  
  
My heart torn asunder, my tears rolling down my cheeks. Neither sensation registers in my numb mind.  
  
My love is forever, but how long is forever when one's soul is devoured? Devoured by monsters disguised as men. Devoured by monsters that thrive on the heartbreak of the human soul.  
  
What then lies before me? A puddle of hope splashed in and trampled by the blindness of men?  
  
Blue eyes regard me silently. I feel their gaze on my back - full of pity and sorrow, but no regret.  
  
No regret for their deed. No regret for him. He who was wrongly accused, and yet I could do nothing to prevent his demise.  
  
His arrest and conviction were swift - all those who might have supported him gone, turned their backs on him and shunned him. And one - one man with the power and the majesty to overturn the sentence - stood by and spoke against my beloved.  
  
"He was their secret keeper," he had said, "He alone knew where they were and he alone had the knowledge to betray them."  
  
Lies. It was all lies. I neither knew nor fathomed a guess as to what the real truth was. I only knew that my son, my sweet Sirius, was innocent.  
  
And so they sentenced him. Shipped him off to Azkaban to go mad and rot. What is a mother to do? I am no detective. I have no power over the ministry. I am but one woman who knows the truth in her heart.  
  
My child is lost to me. My heart and soul gone with him. What do I have left in this world? Why continue? Why press on?  
  
Because he would expect no less of me.  
  
][][  
  
Every year for the past decade on November first, a woman came to the same rock at the same point on the same coast and stared at the ever present mist obscuring the horizon. From noon until dusk she kept vigil, as if waiting for something to happen. She might have been an attractive woman in her prime. Even now, at fifty-odd years of age, she had a certain aura about her that made her stand out. It was not physical beauty, for her tanned skin was weathered, though not to the point of being able to be compared to leather, and a long, pink scar stretched from the corner of her left eye straight back into her hairline. Her left eye was a milky expanse of blindness, her sight lost in the same fight that gave her the scar. Her right eye, though, was a piercing blue-black, years of auror experience making her able to see what others could not. Her thick black hair was heavily streaked with silver, a tell-tale sign of having seen too many horrors in one life. No, it was not physical beauty, it was something else. Something about the confident way she carried herself gave her an almost regal quality. Her gait was measured and purposeful as she made her way across the rocky jetty to the huge boulder about twenty feet into the sea.  
  
None of the wizards who discreetly guarded the shore had ever talked to her. Regardless, they knew exactly who she was. Athena Black had been one of them, an auror, and then a trainer of their best. She had lost the use of her left eye early on in her years as an auror at the age of twenty seven. Rather than let such a talented woman go, the ministry hired her to train others. She worked alongside the legend, Alastor "Mad-eye" Moody, and turned many capable aurors out onto the field to do battle with the forces of evil. Twenty years later, just after her son had been arrested and sent to Azkaban, she faded from the forefront of the wizarding world, only to be pushed back to the top by obligation. A broken woman, she suffered quietly, wallowing in her sorrow and guilt. Guilt for leaving her son to rot in that hell-hole, guilt for not trying harder to keep him from that fate,  
  
"Guilt for not doing a damn thing," she muttered darkly to herself as she stared into the mist. She knew exactly what the rest of the world thought of her - the rest of the world that gave a damn, anyway. Beaten, broken, defeated - all terms they used to describe her, all would receive the same response, "To hell with ye." The Scottish brogue of her parents still surfaced every once in a while, when she was extremely agitated, even though she had lived the last fifty years of her life in England. Contrary to popular opinion, she only wallowed in guilt sparingly, unintentionally forcing it to the back of her mind until it consistently spilled over on the first of November - and spent the rest of her time carrying on with her life the best she could.  
  
She tried not to dwell on him, and had valiantly tried to move on. Each year she said she wasn't going to do this to herself. It never happened. She always came back. It was torture - a kind of self-inflicted torture that always ended the same way. The same day playing over and over in her mind each time she returned. 


	2. Darkness in the Light

}{}{  
  
"To Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived!" came the shouted toast from down the hall.  
  
A few doors down, Athena shook her head at her fellow wizards' folly. "How ironic it would be," she commented bitterly to herself, "that the day Voldemort falls muggles find out about our world."  
  
The middle-aged woman was one of the few souls of the magical community not enjoying the celebrations in light of the dark wizard's downfall, even though she was one of the first to know. Instead, she sat at her kitchen table hunched over and brooding over her copy of the Pre-Dawn Prophet, a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey in hand. The bottle was untouched, having been half full when she grabbed it down from it's perch in her liquor cabinet, and remaining untouched through dawn and into the early morning. Her piercing blue-black eye was fixed on the family portrait on the front cover of the paper - a young man with messy black hair, his wife of three years, and their infant son. James and Lily Potter had died - had been murdered - that very night, but their son, Harry, had survived the Dark Lord's Killing Curse. Yes, Voldemort was gone, his followers scattered and the wizarding world finally had an excuse to celebrate, but who really knew the whole story? What exactly happened at Godric's Hollow? Rita Skeeter, a new, over zealous columnist for the Daily Prophet, had described the couple's death briefly, focusing on the seemingly "all-powerful wonder child that is Harry Potter" dubbing him, an infant, "the savior of the wizarding world."  
  
"Horse shit," the woman snarled aloud, attempting to put the Skeeter woman back in her place by screaming at her article. The morning sun chose that moment to peek over the top of the building across the street and send a blinding ray of sunlight into her flat. She stood and slammed the bottle down onto the table in frustration. "What the hell is going on?!" she screamed to no one in particular. The spitfire woman had never been one to believe rumors, and she absolutely loathed not knowing exactly what happened.  
  
"Sirius would know," she thought as she paced the length of her living space, "but where is he?" She paced the length of her house at least six times, agitatedly running her hands through her lightly silver sprinkled black hair before shaking her head. There was only one other person who would know and she knew exactly where to find him. Grabbing her wand from the kitchen table, she performed a quick charm that made her look somewhat presentable and disapparated out of the flat.  
  
Hogsmeade was a mad house - mobs of people trading gossip on the latest news, trying to piece together the random facts they knew. The large majority, however, did not even bother trying to get their stories straight, impromptu parties springing up everywhere. It took her more time than desired to make it out of the mess, but eventually she found herself before the gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
Taking a moment to gather herself, she straightened her russet robes and marched purposefully up to the castle, her practical black boots making no sound on the hard ground as she made her way up the drive. Without physically touching them, she threw open the front doors of the school testily, and stalked through the entrance hall, ignoring the curious and somewhat fearful looks tossed her way by the students heading into the Great Hall for breakfast. One redhead stepped out of the throng to address her.  
  
"Mrs. Black?" Bill asked hesitantly, not liking the extremely aggravated look on her face. He started slightly when her head snapped around and she regarded him with one sharp eye. Her features softened minimally as she recognized the son of a good friend.  
  
"Mr. Weasley," she acknowledged with a nod.  
  
"What brings you here?" he ventured.  
  
"You haven't heard?" she asked in disbelief.  
  
"The mail doesn't get here until breakfast at the earliest," he explained puzzled.  
  
"Well you'll all be in for a bit of a shock, I'm sure," she said wryly, matching the tall boy's long steps as they entered the Great Hall. Her eyes fell upon the empty seat in the center of the high table and narrowed dangerously. The prefect beside her slowed his steps cautiously, not making any sudden moments to attract her attention. She ignored his not so subtle escape and continued her path to the dais.  
  
"Where is he?" she demanded harshly of the stern woman in square spectacles seated to the right of the empty chair. The older woman's eyes widened in surprise at the ill concealed anger in her former student's voice.  
  
"Athena, what is it?" she asked quickly, rising from her seat as the other woman stepped up onto the dais to meet the deputy headmistress' eyes stonily.  
  
"Where's Dumbledore?" came the curt question.  
  
"I don't know," Hogwart's deputy replied, then added a bit fearfully, "Athena, what is going on? Owls have been flying in all morning, but we haven't received the mail yet. What happened?"  
  
Athena's reply was cut off by the loud rustling of wings that swept into the hall.  
  
"Accio!" the one-eyed witch ordered forcefully and a rolled up Daily Prophet, with a tawny owl attached, came hurtling towards her. She snatched the paper out of the owl's grip and the poor creature went flying headlong into Hogwart's newly appointed potions master, Severus Snape. Ignoring his irate outburst, she opened the paper and thrust it under Minerva's nose.  
  
"That's what happened."  
  
Minerva's hand went directly to her mouth to cork the elated shriek threatening to emerge, guessing accurately that the woman before her would be most annoyed at it. "Dark Lord Defeated" read the title, "Wizardring World Saved By Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived" Minerva's eyebrow shot up skeptically at the sub title even as jubilant shouts and cheers sprung up among the student population. Athena could hear the older children order a few of the younger ones to wake their house mates to tell them the news. However, Minerva did not join in the joyous noise as her co-workers, save Snape, did. Instead, she read the article and gasped when she came to the part about Lily and James.  
  
"How?" she asked weakly, raising her sad eyes to meet Athena's.  
  
"Don't ask me," the sinewy woman snapped, clearly at the end of her patience, "Ask you fearless leader - he's the one with the answers."  
  
"What happened?" Minerva whispered, her eyes traveling back down to the paper to gaze at the faces of two more of her lost students. Suddenly, she wheeled on Snape, who had remained very quiet throughout the entire exchange. His face was a stony mask, his mind far away but was rudely brought back by Minerva's demand, "What happened, Severus?"  
  
"How should I know?" he snapped, his eyes loosing their closed look and brimming with annoyance, and with a subtle spark of joy, Athena noticed silently.  
  
Grabbing his wrist, Minerva dragged him to an antechamber to the left of the high table and nodded for Athena to follow.  
  
"Sit," the formidable witch commanded, her order directed towards Severus, who complied immediately. With a quick wave of her wand, a dull gold web of magic surrounded them, covering the walls completely signifying that the room was warded. She nodded at Severus to start talking after shooting a warning glare at Athena to keep her quiet.  
  
"Professor McGonagall," he began with a sneer, "I really have no idea what happened."  
  
"The dark mark, boy," Athena snapped, her eye flashing dangerously, "Show me."  
  
His eyes grew wide at this command and his almost frightened gaze snapped to Minerva.  
  
"It's all right, she knows everything," the deputy headmistress soothed even as she glared at the other witch. "Go on."  
  
Trying to mask his trepidation, Severus obeyed and rolled back the sleeve on his left arm. Athena leaned closer to it, just barely making out the faint sketch of a skull and a snake. Nodding, she drilled him.  
  
"Did anything unusual happen last night with this?"  
  
His eyes only lingered on Minerva for a brief moment before meeting her piecing gaze and replying, "Around midnight it went black and then disappeared."  
  
"Did it hurt at all?"  
  
"No more than usual."  
  
"Has it ever become so faint before?"  
  
"Never."  
  
Leaning on the cold stone wall behind her, Athena closed her eyes and stood silent for a time. "He's gone," she said aloud a few minutes later, in a softer tone than she had used all day, "He's gone, but he'll be back."  
  
Severus sat bolt upright in his chair, "What makes you say that?"  
  
"No one mentioned a body," she replied heavily, "not even a scorch mark. And the dark mark is still on your arm - theoretically, it should vanish with his passing."  
  
"What are you saying, Athena?" Minerva asked, her voice shaking ever- so-slightly.  
  
"You'd better keep yourself on his good side," she said to Severus, "There's no telling when he'll be back."  
  
He stared at her, trying to hide the despair and fear her words ignited. When he read the headline that morning, he was so happy he might have cried. It was a good thing he was such an amazing actor to be able to conceal emotions like that. But there was no concealing them now. He thought he was free. But no, he would never be free, and it was his own fault. He nodded briskly and quickly stood. Before he could turn on heel and leave, a firm hand stopped him.  
  
"It will be over someday," she told him quietly, "Do not give up hope - it's all we have."  
  
Shrugging off her hand, he sneered at her, "What good is hope when none are left to do so?"  
  
Minerva watched the exchange sadly and walked over to stand beside Athena as the young man stalked out of the small room.  
  
"Do not take his words to heart, Athena," she told the younger witch gently, "He does not mean them. He may not live in hope, but it's there, if just barely - why else would he get up every morning? Why else would any of us for that matter?"  
  
The younger witch's only response was a mute nod.  
  
"What else is wrong?" she asked.  
  
"What else?" Athena barked out in a sarcastic laugh, "What else could possibly be wrong, besides the fact that my son's best friend and his wife are dead? Well, I have no idea, Minerva, tell me, what else is wrong with me?"  
  
"Not nearly enough to land you in St. Mungo's," the older witch snapped, annoyed at Athena's sarcasm. It worried her as well, the sarcasm - Athena had never been sarcastic on a regular basis, only when something was bothering her. After another few minutes of silence, she shook her head and went on, "I'm not certain where the headmaster is, but I'm sure he'll be back soon." When Athena turned her head to look at Minerva pointedly, she sighed and continued, "You might try the Ministry of Magic." Athena's lips quirked into a half smile and she nodded her thanks and left.  
  
Fifteen minutes later she appeared in a quiet alley a few blocks away from the Ministry's headquarters. Not really caring that she was dressed in formal wizard's gear, she stepped out into the muggle world, intent on her destination. It was nearly noon by the time she reached the front doors of the building, having spent nearly half an hour getting up the front steps alone. The building was mobbed, reporters and photographers everywhere, looking for anyone to comment on the recent events. She was in no mood for delays, and the crowd certainly created one, so when the junior auror guarding the front doors stopped her and asked for identification, she bellowed her frustration.  
  
"Damn it, Stonewall!" she hollered, "I am in NO mood for this today! Let me in!"  
  
The young man paled visibly and stepped aside to allow entrance to the famed auror trainer.  
  
"Thank you," she said primly, and pushed her way through the door. As she stepped inside, she just barely avoided a collision with a harassed looking ministry official. Shaking her head as the young woman ran through the doors leading to the Improper Use of Magic office, Athena made her way through the beleaguered wizards and up the great marble staircase to the second floor.  
  
"Miss," the minister's assistant called as Athena swept by her, "Miss, you can't go in there!"  
  
Athena barged into the Minister of Magic's office without preamble.  
  
"Don't you ever knock?" the little wizard demanded irritably from behind the mounting stack of letters on his desk. William McMahon was a smallish man, with a balding head and short cropped auburn beard tinged with silver. What he lacked in height and brawn, though, he made up for with brains and had guided the wizarding world well. In four years, however, his second ten year term would end and he had no plans to return to the power struggle that was the ministry ever again.  
  
"What's the point? I would have come in anyway," came the tart reply. He glared at her and she continued, "Have you seen Dumbledore?"  
  
"No," came his short reply, "But if you do see him, tell him I want a word. All hell's breaking loose and I don't know what exactly happened last night."  
  
"That Skeeter woman was right about one thing," Athena said, meeting the man's pale green eyes steadily, "Voldemort's gone, for the time being at least." She tried not to grin when the minister flinched at the name.  
  
"What do you mean 'for the time being'?" he asked, calming his jangling nerves slowly.  
  
"I don't know anything for certain, you'll have to find Dumbledore for that," she replied, turning to leave.  
  
"Where are you going?" McMahon demanded.  
  
"I'm going to go find some answers."  
  
"Well when you've found them come back here and tell the press."  
  
"Or owl you," she supplied and walked out the door.  
  
Slumping back into his chair, the minister thought wryly of his old schoolmate, "I hold the most important position in the British wizarding world and she still won't obey me."  
  
Athena's mind breezed through the possible locations of the headmaster as she made her way down to the first floor. "Moody," she said quietly, and hastened her pace.  
  
The Dragonsbane Auror Training Academy was a heavily warded school on a small island off the coast of Wales. This was an elite training facility, much smaller and less conspicuous than the huge American one based in the center of the "Bermuda Triangle" as muggles liked to call it. Athena knew the history of the place and the wards that guarded it by heart, only mildly interested in the glittering magical barrier that encircled the sole apparation point. She walked through the sparkling barrier confidently - it had a nasty tendency to keep the feint of heart in its grip for a few minutes, just to give them more of a scare until someone came and freed them. Purposefully, she strode towards the collection of buildings at the heart of the campus, casting about now and then for either the evasive headmaster of Hogwarts or the current director of Dragonsbane.  
  
"Athena!" a gravel-like shout echoed across the campus. She whirled around, searching for Moody and couldn't help but crack a grin as he approached her, a look of complete joy on his face, his magical eye positively dancing.  
  
"I take it you've heard the news?" she questioned mildly.  
  
"Damn right I did," he replied, "Dumbledore was just by here this morning."  
  
The witch made an enraged and exasperated sound and threw her hands up in defeat. "That is IT!" she yelled, "I am NOT chasing that man around anymore. I'e been looking for him all day!" she paused and took a deep breath to calm her temper, ignoring the amused look Moody sent her way. "So what did he say?" she asked pointedly.  
  
"It's all true."  
  
"Elaborate, please."  
  
"All the rumors, they're true. Voldemort showed up at Godric's Hollow, killed Lily and James and was defeated by little Harry Potter."  
  
"But HOW?" she pressed.  
  
Moody shook his head at her impatience and said, "I'll explain over lunch, come on."  
  
Staring at him in disbelief as he walked towards the director's building, Athena seethed inwardly and looked at her watch. "Noon already," she mused silently and darkly added, "Sure. Let's have lunch, maybe I can even stay for afternoon tea." Rolling her eyes, she caught up with Moody and resigned herself to a late lunch.  
  
"So you see, Albus thinks it was all Lily," he told her through a mouthful of beef. Taking a swig from his hip flask, he swallowed and continued, "Something about a mother's love and Voldemort not being able to cope or understand or something."  
  
"You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about do you?" she asked bluntly, the food on her plate untouched. Moody's table manners were enough to put anyone off their appetite, but Athena didn't think she could stomach anything anyway, in light of recent events.  
  
He threw a lopsided grin at her, creasing his face like worn leather along the scar lines. Shaking her head, she reached for the bottle of butterbeer and took a sip.  
  
"I suppose Lily could have been powerful enough to create a shield that strong," she thought aloud, blocking out Moody's loud chewing, "but that still doesn't explain much. How could he have found them in the first place? I thought they were protected by the Fidelius Charm. Wait-," she said suddenly, a horrible thought occurring, "Who was their secret keeper?"  
  
Moody gulped soundlessly, debating whether or not to share that bit of information he'd received from Dumbledore that morning. Athena saw his Adam's Apple bob nearly imperceptibly and fixed her midnight blue eye upon him.  
  
"Spill it."  
  
Luckily for Moody, a young trainee, no more than nineteen years old, charged into his office and gasped, "Urgent call from the ministry."  
  
"Put them through," he ordered and fixed his normal eye on Athena while his magical one swiveled to watch the fire for the incoming call. He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off before he could get a sound out.  
  
"I'm staying right here," she stated firmly, leaving no room for argument as he glared at her.  
  
"Auror Moody," came a nearly frantic call from the fireplace.  
  
"Yes what is it?" he snapped, making his way over to the burning hearth.  
  
"We've got a problem - Luddington and Queens in London. Hurry up and get down here," the head of junior minister Cornelius Fudge said quickly, "we've got loads of muggle witnesses and a dead wizard."  
  
"I'm on it," he said and the head disappeared with a pop. Turning to Athena he raised an eyebrow, "Just like old times. Shall we?"  
  
She shot him a half-grin before grabbing a handful of Floo powder and calling "Grate four" into the green flames. She stepped out of the fireplace in the guardhouse next to the apparation point on campus. Moody stepped out right behind her and they strode through the room and to the sparkling barrier.  
  
"Tell me again what's so intimidating about the color pink," Athena commanded, flinching at the color of the magical wall as she stepped through. Moody chuckled in response as they cleared the wall. There was a soft pop and they were gone.  
  
The intersection of Luddington Road and Queens Avenue was pandemonium. A huge crater about four feet deep took up the entire sidewalk, a corner building, and half of the road. Figures of men and women were being zipped up in body bags and loaded into one of five muggle ambulances. Bright yellow police tape and lined with muggle police officers kept the growing crowd of curious muggles away. Off to the side, Athena saw a smaller group of muggles being directed into a tent with the Department of Magical Law Catastrophes logo on the flap - three crossed white wands on a field of teal ringed by nine golden stars.  
  
"You can't pass here," a burly muggle officer intercepted their path to the action.  
  
"They're with us," a brown haired wizard said as he hurried over. The two senior aurors ducked under the tape and joined the younger man on the other side. "It's about time you got here," he commented dryly as he led them through the cleanup melee, "We've got twenty eight injured muggles - six in critical condition, and twelve dead - eleven muggles, one wizard."  
  
"So what exactly happened here, Longbottom?" Moody asked brusquely.  
  
He shook his head, "No idea, I just arrived."  
  
Athena shot him a look to which he replied testily, "I am supposed to be on holiday I'll have you know."  
  
"Auror Moody!" called a male voice from inside the crater, "Come down here please."  
  
"Damn brainless git," he muttered darkly and Frank Longbottom gave a half-hearted grin.  
  
"I'll leave you to him then," he said and turned back to the makeshift Obliviating Station.  
  
Athena followed Moody to the edge of the crater and stopped, taking in the full extent of the damage. The corner store had completely collapsed, a group of wizards was muttering charms and spells to keep the rest of the building from crumbling. A water pipe had been blasted apart and a steady stream of muddy water flowed into the jaggedly exposed sewer.  
  
"Moody, I-." Fudge's greeted hitched in his throat when he caught sight of the dark haired woman behind the auror. "Auror Black," he greeted nervously trying to cover his quivering voice with an unconvincing smile, "How good of you to drop by."  
  
"What happened?" she asked bluntly, not liking the way his eyes shifted between the pair of one-eyed people in front of him.  
  
"Well, ah," he began - she could see him casting about for some cock- bull story, "It's really a matter, ah - yes an important matter between myself and ah, Mister Moody."  
  
"Horse shit," she snarled for the second time that day, "Spit it out, boy."  
  
"Athena," Moody muttered warningly, fixing her once again with his normal eye and keeping the other on the anxious junior minister before them. Turning his attention back to Fudge, he commanded, "Well, go on."  
  
Gathering himself, the man a decade older than Athena herself began steadily, "As you know, we've been in pursuit of the Potter's Secret Keeper since three o'clock this morning. We have reason to believe that he was the one who betrayed them. There was a confrontation here less than half and hour ago in which the suspect and another wizard presumably dueled. The suspect was partially successful in that Peter Pettigrew, the wizard who caught up with him, was killed in the same explosion that took out this entire area."  
  
"One curse did all this?" Moody asked in disbelief.  
  
"That's what we believe, yes."  
  
"Do you have the suspect in custody?" Athena wanted to know, her eye straying across the crater and towards the Obliviating tent. When Fudge failed to answer immediately, she snapped her eye back to glare at him expectantly.  
  
"Well - you - you see," he stammered, "Mr. Crouch, he's the head of -."  
  
"I know who he is," she snapped impatiently, "Do you have the suspect in custody? Has he been questioned? When is the tentative trial date set for?"  
  
Fudge's nervousness was put on hold as the woman's demands reached his ears, her tone raising his indignation.  
  
"No, no, and no," he said, eyes narrowing as he temporarily forgot the identity of the suspect and snapped at her without fear, "He is not being held, he has not been questioned - there is not need, all the evidence is against him and we have an entire street full of eye-witnesses, and there will be no trial."  
  
"No trial?" she repeated dangerously, "What do you mean 'no trial'? Is he to be sent to Azkaban without a trial?"  
  
"Yes," the man snapped viciously, ignoring the way Alastor's face paled and his eyes both snapped frantically to the woman beside him. "He is being readied for Azkaban as we speak."  
  
"On whose orders?!" she exploded. Wizardring law demanded a trial, proven criminal or not.  
  
"Bartemius Crouch," he replied, the quiver in his voice returning as he faced the mounting fury of the formidable witch.  
  
"Athena Black?" a tall, balding man asked.  
  
"What?" she snapped, in a very bitter mood about Crouch's disregard for proper justice.  
  
"Excuse me, but I need to ask you a few questions about your son."  
  
"Why?" her eye snapping back into focus to regard the man before her keenly. "What's he got to do with any of this?"  
  
The man looked at her with a puzzled expression, flipping back through his notes again, "You are Athena Black, mother of one Sirius Black?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Athena," Moody said quietly, commanding her attention with his uncharacteristically soft tone. One look was all it took for her to guess what was going on.  
  
"Oh my God," she whispered, her face quickly turning from an angry flushed red to a deathly pale. Without waiting for confirmation from any of the men there, she apparated out of the crater and burst through the flap of the Obliviator tent, sidestepping Frank Longbottom and flinging open the door to the listening station. A muggle man was giving his account of what happened in a trembling sort of voice - he had been one of the closet to the action, his head bandaged neatly and his arm resting in a sling. Without giving either of the aurors in the room a second glance, she riveted her eye on the man talking, focusing on his voice to try to spot any lies or half-truths.  
  
"It was a short little blonde man," he was saying, Athena could see his mind struggling to recall the brief images before the explosion. "He was definitely distraught. Crying something awful from what I could see. Then he screamed something - can't remember exactly what, but it was something like, 'Lily and James, serious, how could you?' and then the entire street blew apart. That's all I remember, sorry," he finished.  
  
"Not at all, Mr. Johnson," the woman said casually, "you've helped a great deal. Thank you for your cooperation," she rose and shook his still functioning hand, "Now if you'll please follow my partner, he'll get you straightened out."  
  
As soon as the man was gone, a new witness was brought in. This time it was a nosey-looking elderly woman.  
  
"Good afternoon, Madame," the auror greeted cordially and pleasantries were briefly exchanged. "Would you mind describing what you saw today?"  
  
"I remember two men," she began, "but mind you, I was a little way off, I was just coming out of the clothing shop across the street, you know? The one with the bright blue dress in the window. Where was I? Oh yes, there were two men. One had black hair and the other had blonde. The black haired one was tall and handsome looking, I remember. The other one was short-ish, not much to look at. Anyway, the short one yelled something, I couldn't hear what, and then there was a huge explosion. Next thing I knew, the black haired one was standing in the middle of it all, laughing like a madman."  
  
"Lies," she whispered when she felt a figure come up beside her, "It's all lies."  
  
"Athena," she heard Moody's gravelly voice began gently, "I told you Albus came to Dragonsbane today, correct? He told me then-," his voice caught in his throat, his whole being screaming at him to leave it be, but he continued, "Sirius was James' Secret Keeper."  
  
She whirled on him and hissed, "Liar."  
  
"Athena, it's true," he told her, "he betrayed them." She tensed. "He was the only one with the knowledge to."  
  
Shaking her head in denial, she ran out of the tent and apparated to the top of a bluff overlooking the sea coast. She jogged away from the edge a few feet and then turned and gave herself a running start before her leapt. She fell a good seven meters before hitting the ground lightly and rolling to her feet.  
  
"Stop!" she screamed at the group of wizards preparing to cast off. They ignored her, but she was fifty meters away, so it was entirely possible they didn't hear her above the crashing waves. Sprinting towards the group, she prayed silently that this was all a big mistake. Nearing the group, she saw a familiar mop of black hair.  
  
"Stop!" she screamed again, "Sirius!"  
  
"Athena, wait," a tall silver bearded wizard came forward from the small group of spectators and stopped her.  
  
"What for?" she snapped viciously, "Think ye can come up with more lies to lock him away for good?"  
  
She broke away from his grip and started towards the boat again, only to find that it had already cast off.  
  
"NO!" she shrieked and took off over the rocky quay jutting out into the sea. Reaching the end of the jetty, she looked frantically into the boat carrying her son away. For a brief instant, their eyes locked and he gave her that cocky grin of his and mouthed "I'll be back" to her in his full Terminator impression. She choked on a half-laugh, half-sob as he sailed past her, flanked by two soul-sucking dementors on his way to a living hell. She didn't know how long she stood there, staring at the little boat fading into the mist, but he was long gone by the time anyone dared to venture towards her.  
  
"Athena," a soothing female voice called softly, "Athena, come on." A gentle but firm pair of hands steered her back towards the almost empty beach. She fell to her knees on the beach and retched dryly (she hadn't eaten all day). After a few moments, she looked up groggily, her mind still refusing to accept what just happened. She met the concerned, all-knowing gaze of Albus Dumbledore and snarled as she leapt at him. A strong piece of something, like a cane, smacked her back into the sand face-first and pinning her there neatly.  
  
"Get lost Dumbledore," the same female voice said again, only this time her tone was harder, more forceful.  
  
"It-."  
  
"Go," the voice growled dangerously. Athena heard soft footsteps pad away and felt the pressure of the cane lifted from the middle of her back. Arabella Figg gingerly lowered herself down to sit in the sand beside the younger witch as she repositioned her arms and dropped her head down onto them.  
  
"I wish Canis were here," Athena whispered softly, her watery eye still turned towards the sea mist. Arabella nodded quietly, vaguely remembering Athena's deceased husband. She had trained them both at Dragonsbane more than twenty years ago. They met there, got married right after graduation and Sirius was born nine months after that. Their son barely remembered his father now - he had died when the boy was just three years old, his life claimed in the same fight that deprived Athena of sight in her left eye. The boy was a carbon copy of his mother, no matter how vehemently he denied it - same hair, same eyes, same smile, same nose. The only thing he might have inherited from his father was the shape of his face - it was boxier than Athena's - and his love of mischief.  
  
"Bella," the younger witch whispered in a halting voice, "Do you think he did it?"  
  
The retired auror sighed and responded honestly, "All the evidence points to him, Athena - he was their secret keeper. Don't shake your head at me - you know Dumbledore wouldn't lie about something like this."  
  
"It's not true," she hissed, "It can't be."  
  
"Athena, there's nothing you can do to change it," Arabella said gently, "Sirius is as good as gone. You need to think about the future. Will you care for the boy?"  
  
"No," came the immediate reply.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because that boy-who-lived killed mine," Athena snapped. Rising, she ignored Arabella's protests and made her way up the cliff and apparated.  
  
"Well, now you've done it, Albus," Arabella snapped wearily into the wind.  
  
"There was nothing I could do," he replied, stepping out from behind the rocks, "He is guilty, no matter how much we would all like to deny it."  
  
"Are you sure?" she whispered, staring out into the misty sea.  
  
"I am," the man replied firmly. Cautiously, he ventured, "Arabella I need you to do something for me."  
  
"What?" she demanded without preamble.  
  
"Will you watch over Harry Potter?" came the request. "I am leaving him with his muggle relatives-."  
  
"Lily's side, right?"  
  
"Yes, in Surrey."  
  
"Number four Privet Drive. Yes, I know," she said in response to his wide-eyed stare, "It's already been taken care of."  
  
"But how-?"  
  
"You're not the only one with foresight around here. There are others out there with power as great as yours," she remarked pointedly, giving him a hard look, "and we don't take kindly to being stabbed in the back by our allies." When he remained silent, being properly chastised, she changed the subject and brought the attention back to their immediate problem. "You'd best hope someone finds hard evidence of Sirius' guilt soon, otherwise Athena will give you hell." 


End file.
